Beach House

Avery awoke with a smile on his face as the warm sun crept across his bed. After only three days into his house-sitting gig he had started to feel like he truly belonged in the McAvoy’s house. He leapt out of bed (something he never did back at his own apartment) and stretched as he marched to the kitchen. The McAvoy’s fancy coffee maker was already brewing up a hot pot of their Puerto Rican blend of coffee. They had oat milk in the fridge.

He stared out the sliding glass doors of the deck, adjacent to the kitchen, at the beach. The tide was slowly ebbing in. He sipped his coffee and poured himself some cereal from the cabinet–”Sorghum and Acai berry blend” the box read. The McAvoys had urged him to help himself to what they had in their cabinets, so of course he did.

His phone vibrated along the kitchen countertop. It was his ex-boyfriend, Eli. Their break-up was fresh, but the McAvoy’s beach house had left Avery in the kind of spirits that he could speak to Eli without any of the resentment and regret their toxic relationship had left in him. He tapped the Speakerphone button. “Hey there babe,” he said, chomping on an acai berry as he sipped his coffee.

“Just wanted to tell you I’m changing the Netflix password,” Eli said without even a greeting.

Avery shrugged. “No worries. I’ve got all the streaming services here.”

“How long are you staying there?” Eli asked. It was none of Eli’s business of course, but Avery had no problem sharing.

“Until the end of the month. I’ll figure out Netflix after that,” he said.

“How is it?” Eli asked. Avery couldn’t tell if Eli was forcing polite conversation or if he was digging for details–and it truly didn’t matter to him.

“It’s so BEAUTIFUL!” Avery exuded, sliding open the deck doors so he could feel the morning breeze. “My backyard is the beach! And there’s a nice veranda outside where I can take my morning coffee and read, and… cute neighbor guys too.” Avery was only being honest of course–he’d met the two blonde brothers, Claude and Marcus, the first night he’d stayed there. They’d wandered out near the veranda between their two houses to smoke a joint. Avery offered some wine, they offered their weed, and the three of them got blitzed as they watched shooting stars in the sky. Avery had never had a more perfect night.

“Oh really?” Eli asked. “I’m sure you love that.”

The emphasis on that word had been intended to jab at Avery, but he didn’t take the bait.

“I do. They’re going to teach me to surf. Goodbye, Eli!” Avery hung the phone up and sipped his coffee as he walked out to feel the sand between his toes.

He paused as he noticed some crumpled beer cans scattered across the beach, leading over to Claude and Marcus’ house. The two brothers were in their early twenties; it suddenly dawned on Avery that he’d never asked if their parents owned the house or if they lived there alone. “Maybe they’re like, tech startup guys or something,” he mused aloud as he cleaned up what had to be their mess. He found a bottle of Fireball whiskey half-buried in the sand.

“Good god,” he said as he took a sniff of the cinnamon liquor. “Imagine being 21 again.” He marched across the stretch of beach between their two houses and knocked on their back door.

An elderly woman, her grey hair pulled up in a tight bun, answered the door, pulling the belt on her robe tight as he checked the clock. “Can I help you?” she said, her words sharp and staccato.

“Hi! I, uh… think Marcus and Claude left their liquor out on the beach. I just wanted to return it to them.” Avery swished the liquor around the half-empty bottle.

The woman patted her hair, stepping back from the door. “I’m sorry, who?” she asked. “Who are you?” She reached toward the phone on the counter.

“I’m staying next door, house-sitting for the McAvoys,” Avery said. “Do Claude and Marcus not live here?”

She shook her head. “No, I live here alone. I’m Peggy Randall. And I remember the McAvoys saying you’d be staying here. Do you want me to, uh…” She scrunched up her face at the bottle. “...throw that away for you?”

Avery considered it, then shrugged and kept it. “Sorry to bother you!” he said, walking away. As he walked back to his temporary abode, he scanned the beach for other houses. “I could have sworn they said they lived there…” he said, wondering how he could have gotten it confused.

He jumped when he saw Marcus, a beanpole with a scruffy beard, next to short, shaggy-haired Claude in the McAvoy’s kitchen when he returned. “Jesus!” he said. “You two scared the shit out of me!”

Claude wiped the sleep out of his eye. “Bro, we smelled that coffee and we were like… DAMN, I’d kill for a cup of that.”

Marcus nodded with a wink. “We were thinking about ordering breakfast. There’s a sick brunch place near here that delivers.”

Avery looked at the two hunky men–their tan, lean bodies and their sun-swept hair, their shell-necklaces and their bare, sandy feet. He let out a sigh, wishing for just a moment that they were gay.

“Guys, I’m sorry,” Avery said. “I must have misunderstood where you lived. I thought it was next door.”

Marcus and Claude exchanged glances. “We didn’t… ACTUALLY… say where we lived,” Marcus said.

“Yeah, we just said we’ve been staying here,” Claude added.

“We meant ‘here’ as in ‘on the beach’ kinda thing,” Marcus continued.

Marcus grabbed the bottle from Avery and tilted it back, chugging a few gulps before handing it to Claude.

Avery got a pit in his stomach. “Guys… are you saying… you’re… homeless?”

Claude shrugged. “We just kind of sleep wherever, bro. Marcus has his van parked down the street. We sleep there, or on the beach.”

“Yeah, we just saw you drinking and thought you needed some company, and that weed was good as hell, right?” Marcus said with a wink.

Avery tried to process all of this. What would the McAvoys say about him harboring vagrants in their house? He eyed the phone, wondering if he should call the police… although the two men had done nothing wrong.

“We got some amazing weed we wanted to share with you, bro,” Claude said. He patted his jeans pocket. “It’s called ‘shooting star’--and when we heard that, we were like… ‘NO WAY! We gotta smoke this with Ave!’ Weren’t we like that, Marcus?”

Marcus nodded. “It’s like, fate, right?”

Avery shook his head. “Guys, this isn’t my house. You know I’m house-sitting.”

“No, we get it,” Claude said. “We totally understand.”

“And the McAvoys said ‘no guests’--and I’m certain they’d be doubly pissed about guests I didn’t even know!”

“Hey, bro, we don’t want to mess up your situation at all,” Marcus said, patting Avery on the shoulder and giving it a squeeze. The contact made him feel warm inside; since the breakup with Eli, he’d been feeling especially lonely. Hell, Eli hadn’t even touched him at all for the last six months of their relationship.

The two brothers headed for the front door. “Hey, Avery, no sweat, bud. We’re sorry, man! We wouldn’t want to mess up your situation here or anything.”

Avery hated how warm and understanding Claude sounded. God, these guys were absolute dreamboats… And here Avery was, sending them away. In the meantime, he’d be spending the rest of the month with a crotchety old woman as his only nearby company.

“Hey, guys,” Avery said. “What if…” He tried hard to formulate his thoughts. “What if we just, y’know, smoke the weed on the veranda? It’s not technically IN the house…”

The two brothers smiled. Claude pumped his fist. Marcus raised the bottle of Fireball in celebration. Avery smiled. “But first… let’s order some breakfast,” he said, lifting up his phone.

An hour later, the three of them sat on comfortable lounge chairs arranged in a triangle on the blue-tiled veranda. Marcus took a hit off the joint and blew smoke rings. Avery smirked, his belly full of frittatas and a fruit-and-yogurt parfait. This was the perfect day!

“You think that old lady from next door will smell the weed?” Avery said, suspiciously eyeing the house next door.

“Hell no,” Marcus said, finishing the last bite of his chocolate chip pancakes. “I saw her leaving earlier. I think she owns some store in town. Weird little shop, sells expensive glass pieces…”

“Dude, that ex-boyfriend of yours,” Claude said, still mulling over the stories Avery had shared. “He sounds like a real… I mean, you don’t deserve that kinda stuff. You’re a great guy.”

“GREAT guy,” Marcus said. The tall hunk smiled at Avery with a warmth he hadn’t seen in years–certainly never from Eli.

“Guys, y’know,” Avery said, his head swimming from the weed and the strong coffee pulsing through his veins, “I think I need… to take a shower. Clear my head. I feel… REALLY high.”

The three giggled over that fact and Avery sauntered inside. He stopped in the front entryway, staring at his reflection on glass front of the grandfather clock. The rhythmic ticking seemed to hypnotize him as he stared into his own eyes. “All this beach life,” he said, rubbing his hands over his smooth face. “Makes me look… younger.” That, he thought, or I’m just high as fuck… but the usual bags beneath his eyes and the lines across his forehead were all gone.

In the shower he squeezed some of Mr. McAvoy’s body wash into his hands. As the warm water hit him, the body wash rinsed down the drain. He watched the sudsy blue gel swirl around before it disappeared entirely. “Good fucking god am I high,” he said. He turned the knobs to cold and held his face in the stream, desperate to snap out of this haze before he got lost in it.

He was shocked when he started to lather up his body as his hands passed across his midsection–where once there was a layer of flab, now he felt firm abdominal muscles. “Fuck,” he said aloud, pawing at his midsection. It felt incredible–but how was it possible? He hadn’t done a crunch in years! (Plus, his gut was full to overflowing with breakfast food.)

Avery was so lost in examination of his body, mystified by the fact that he’d somehow shed a layer of softness as if he’d just completed an 8-week weight-training boot camp, that he didn’t realize he wasn’t alone. The wet drumming of loud urination in the toilet snapped him from his fugue.

“Whoa, shit, Marcus,” Avery said, slapping his hands down over his junk. He wasn’t certain the steamed-up doors would adequately hide his dignity.

“Sorry bro,” Marcus said. “Just had to piss. You don’t mind, do you?”

Avery shrugged. “Nah, not really,” he said. He blinked. Suddenly he didn’t feel quite so high–as if the fog had suddenly lifted from his brain.

“Yo, you need someone to wash your back in there, bud?” Marcus asked. Through the door, Avery could see Marcus shedding his shirt and unbuckling his belt.

“Uh, no, I think I’m… good…” Avery began, but Marcus had already pulled the door open, stepping in to greet him. He’d left his underwear (tighty-whities), but he reached forward with eager hands, squeezing out some hair gel and working on a lather before he started working over Avery’s back with strong fingers.

“Man, you are tense,” Marcus said as Avery leaned back into the contact. He couldn’t believe the tall, skinny guy was so strong!

“Yeah, I guess…” Avery said. He was lost in the feeling of Marcus’ firm touch. Could Marcus be gay? He wondered. Did his brother know? Avery was sure the two had mentioned something about being straight the first night they’d met. Maybe they just said something about liking girls… maybe they were bi?

“I think… I think we’re done,” Avery said as he noticed his rock-hard cock bobbing in front of him.

“Aw,” Marcus said, playfully wiping some suds off Avery’s face. “I was hoping we could switch. I guess maybe later?”

Avery was stunned when Marcus took the towel and dried Avery’s naked body himself–but not as stunned as he was when he saw himself in the mirror. He looked fit! His body had somehow shed about forty pounds of flab since that morning. He approached his reflection as if he were seeing a warped funhouse image.

He gasped as he realized that Marcus, dressing behind him, looked different as well. His formerly skinny limbs had plumped up with tight cords of muscle that most definitely hadn’t been there before. All 6’3” of him had filled out; while he’d looked hot before, he was absolutely STUNNING now, every bulge of him rippling as he got dressed. The tall stoner now looked like an Olympic swimmer!

Without a word the two walked out to join Claude on the veranda. The shorter man had dozed off, snoring softly. Avery checked to see if Claude had changed, too–but the man looked exactly the same (which only served to make Marcus’ change that much more dramatic!) As Claude woke, Avery waited for him to comment about his, or Marcus’, shifted appearance. He said nothing.

“Aw, did I miss shower time?” he said with a wink. He shrugged. “Anyway, we’re probably going to get going,” Claude said. “Thanks for the hospitality, Ave. You’re a great dude! But we don’t want you getting in trouble with the McA-whos.”

Marcus winked as he stretched his filled-out body. Avery marveled at the way his stomach muscles rippled as he arched his back, scratching his smooth, tan skin.

“Wait a minute,” Avery said. “What if you guys… just hung out on the couch for a few nights? It’s a HUGE couch. As long as you don’t leave a mess or anything…”

The two brothers smiled at each other, exchanged a high-five, then came at Avery for a hug. He couldn't believe the difference in their sizes now, accentuated by Marcus’ suddenly filled out muscle. Even compared to Avery’s new slim physique, Claude seemed a little… doughy? Avery tried to put it out of his mind.

It’s the weed, he said as the brothers walked inside the house. I’m just really stoned. That’s it.

After a thirty-minute nap, Avery hopped to his feet, happy to be quick-witted once again. He peered out the window and saw Peggy’s jeep back in her driveway. The brothers were snoring in the living room, so Avery went outside, jogging (with a special spring in his step) next door. He knocked, folding his hands in front of him, trying to look contrite.

Peggy answered the door, this time wearing a sundress. She shocked Avery by greeting him with a warm hug, followed by a kiss on each cheek. “Avery, darling, how are you?” she asked.

“Hi, Peggy!” he said, shocked at her familiarity. “I just wanted to apologize for this morning. I don’t know what I was thinking, trying to return a bottle of booze to you!”

She laughed and gave him a wink. “Oh, sweetie, you know my liquor cabinet is ALWAYS fully-stocked. You keep that for yourself. As a matter of fact…” She held up a finger and backed away from the door, returning with a bottle of wine. “THIS is an absolutely delightful Red blend. It’ll be perfect tonight, maybe with a steak?” She winked.

Avery nodded. “Thanks, Peggy, I appreciate it,” he said. He sighed with relief. He’d worried about Peggy reporting back to the McAvoys about his strange behavior. But clearly she liked him.

Avery walked away, bottle tucked under his arm. “You tell those boys I said hi!” Peggy said, waving effusively. He froze, midstride, then turned around to wave back.

“I will! Thank you!” Had she seen that he had guests at the house? Was she going to rat him out? Just as he returned to his own abode, he froze. “Did I even tell her my name today?” he wondered aloud.

He peeked into the living room to find Marcus still sleeping, his long, thick body stretched out to its fullest along the couch, but Claude was missing. Avery found him out on the beach, doing handstand pushups in the sand.

But as Avery walked across the warm sand, he gasped at the sight of Claude. Earlier in the day, he’d had an average–borderline chubby–build, but the adorable blonde man was RIPPLING now. With every step, Avery’s eyes bugged out more at the bulges on his body. If it weren’t for the shell necklace around his neck or the ragged cut-off jeans he wore, Avery would have suspected some amateur bodybuilder had stumbled onto their property rather than the blue-eyed partyboy Avery had left just minutes before.

Claude did one last slow rep, pressing his wide, beefy body to the sand, then shoved himself up enough force to propel him into a somersault. He landed on his feet looking like an Olympic gymnast–no, bigger!

“Claude, you look…”

“I know, I know,” Claude said, gesturing down to a shelf of pec meat he’d absolutely not had earlier in the day. “My biceps have WAY overtaken my tris. My bad. I just fucking love to curl! But I’ll get the big old horseshoes back, I promise,” he said, punching his fists down as he flexed his arms. “How are you, studly? Did you say hi to Peggy for me?”

Avery was stunned again when he stood next to Claude. Avery was SURE he was several inches taller than Claude, but now the two saw eye-to-eye. The well-built blonde man threw a muscled arm around Avery’s neck and pulled him into a loving embrace, kissing him on the cheek.

“Y’know, every day I’m grateful you let us stay here,” he said as the two walked back to the house. Avery lagged back a bit, basking in the sight of Claude’s newly muscleplumped body, a juicy pair of glutes swaying back and forth as his powerful back flexed. “You have any ideas for dinner tonight?” he said.

“Dinner? I, uh…”

Claude went to take a step into the kitchen, but Marcus shouted at them. “HEY! Rinse your feet, guys. I just mopped in here!”

Avery couldn’t believe his eyes when he saw Marcus, looking even taller now, scrubbing dishes in the kitchen sink with a pair of yellow rubber gloves on. His rippling body was clad only in an apron. As he turned around, Avery’s eyes feasted on Marcus’ bare ass–even thicker than earlier, like a pair of pumped up biceps!

“My turn to cook tonight, right?” Claude said. “Ave, I’m thinking steak… but as always, master of the house gets the final say.”

“I could make a nice salad,” Marcus said as he rinsed the last dish and set it in the rack. “Remember that dressing you loved, Ave?”

Avery looked at the two men, who had somehow become elite athletes in the past few hours. “No,” he admitted. “Actually I don’t!”

Marcus winked. “It’s all that weed you smoke!” he said with a playful wink. “Don’t worry. I’ll make sure you have a night so good you remember EVERY detail.”

“I thought it was my night with him?” Claude said, placing his hands on his hips and puffing up his incredibly muscular torso, now so wide he would have to turn sideways to get through doors.

More shocking than the discussion going on before him was the fact that the kitchen counters looked higher. Avery tore his eyes away from the rippling physiques of his two new companions to examine the doorknobs and the cabinets… literally everything looked like it had moved up a few inches. As he turned back to find Claude just a shade taller than him now, he realized the short musclestud hadn’t gotten taller–Avery had gotten shorter. He was now the shortest of the three, by a longshot.

Avery reached a hand under his t-shirt to touch firm cobbled muscle. His breath caught as he pulled his shirt up to reveal a veiny 8-pack beneath. He looked like a little underwear model now!

“Fuck!” Marcus said, yanking his apron off to reveal a big swinging cock, bouncing half-hard from his shaved-smooth groin. “Ave, you drive me nuts when you flash those abs. God, you’re fucking flawless, babe.”

Claude literally licked his lips as he tweaked his own nipples. “Damn, I wish I could get as ripped as you, Ave,” he said, reaching out with a thick paw to run his calloused fingers over Avery’s shredded body.

Avery felt like he might collapse from sensory overload–but luckily, the doorbell rang. He pulled himself away from the insanity in the kitchen, trying to will his rock-hard cock to slacken as he approached the door. The tent in his shorts seemed bigger than usual. As he pulled the waistband back, he realized why: his dick was HUGE! It had to be nine inches long now, and as thick around as his own wrist!

“Fuck, I got shorter,” he said, pawing at the big, plump balls hanging beneath his beautiful new cock, “and got ripped, and got a big dick… and two musclestuds in the house…” He looked around, confused. “The McAvoys aren’t even going to recognize me when they get back!” He reassured himself that he had several more weeks before he had to deal with the reality of their return.

The doorbell rang again, snapping him out of his reverie.

He found Eli standing just outside the front door with a plastic grocery bag hanging from his wrist. Eli looked taller than Avery had remembered (naturally, since Avery was several inches shorter now) but also more haggard. His eyes were puffy with dark circles underneath; his normally tight stomach had a layer of paunch. His dark hair was graying around the temples. Eli’s face exuded warmth as soon as he saw Avery. The expression was one Avery had never seen on that face before.

“Avery! You… you look good!” Eli said. He took a step forward, arms open for a hug, but chickened out of the gesture a moment later, letting his arms relax.

“Eli, what are you…” Avery looked him up and down, then shook his head. “How did you even know where to find me?”

Eli shrugged. “I just sort of guessed, really. I know how you like to spend your summers on the beach, and… I just found a few things at my house I thought you might want.”

“A few things?” Avery said, shooting the bag a skeptical glance.

“Just a few… y’know, toiletries… Your wine key… And I had an extra bottle of your favorite hot sauce, so I brought you some of that…”

Avery smelled the brothers–a mixture of sea-salt and gym sweat–a moment before he felt their body heat behind him. Eli paled, his knees going weak. Avery turned to see his boys–damn, it suddenly felt so natural to refer to them in that way–but was shocked when he saw that their already muscular bodies had swollen again since he’d left them in the kitchen.

Behind Avery stood two professional-sized bodybuilders, each one swollen to his limits with round, full muscles. Their arms stuck out from their sides due to the magnificently swollen lats beneath; their necks were so thick it looked like their traps just melted into their cinderblock heads; each of their legs was as big around as Avery’s waist. They looked like inflated anatomy charts–all stuffed into tiny neon posing trunks (Marcus in orange, Claude in hot pink) that barely contained their considerable manhoods. The only difference between the two, besides Claude’s slightly longer hair and Marcus’ beard,

“Sir, is there a problem here?” Claude asked Avery.

“Dinner’s almost ready, Sir,” Marcus said, grabbing Avery with one hand and pulling him back into the tightly packed orange bulge, rubbing its silky fabric against the back of Avery’s neck. Claude grabbed one of Avery’s hands and guided it up between his pecs, squeezing them until the cleavage gripped his fingers.

“I’m pretty sure you should leave, Eli,” Avery said with more conviction than he’d ever had in the presence of his ex. Eli was already backing away, but his pace quickened at Avery’s command.

“Did you want… these?” Eli said, waving the plastic bag over his head from the sidewalk.

“Why don’t you shove them up your ass?” Marcus suggested. Eli immediately held his head down and hustled away as Avery shut the door.

“I’m sorry, sir, was that too much?” Marcus said, staring demurely at the floor.

“That was perfect,” Avery said. The two musclemen waddled into the house, which almost seemed too small to contain the two of them at the same time.

As they approached the kitchen, Avery paused to look at the framed photos on the walls. The pictures of the McAvoys were gone. In their place, he found shots of himself and the two enormous brothers; one, after a bodybuilding show, both Marcus and Claude holding trophies as Avery held his arms around the two of them. Another, the three during Christmas, with the brothers’ massive torsos barely contained in gaudy green sweaters while Avery sat on Marcus’ lap. There was another shot of the three of them out to dinner with Peggy, another with them all splashing in the surf.

“Do the McAvoys even exist anymore?” Avery asked no one in particular.

Claude casually scratched the mound in his brightly colored trunks. “Sounds familiar,” Claude said. “But I don’t think it’s anyone we need to think about anymore.”

Avery blinked as he looked around his house–it WAS his house, he realized with a shock–feeling something click into place in his brain.

“Sir, should we go out to the hot tub?” Marcus asked.

Avery turned, staring directly into Marcus’ thick midsection, his muscles so swollen that his navel had popped out. “Hot tub,” Avery said, about to say that there wasn’t one, but a memory of its installation materialized in his head. “Yes,” he said.

The three climbed into the enormous hot tub (custom-made so Avery’s two massive companions could easily stretch out their growing bodies). Claude slid up next to Avery, letting the smaller man rest his head on Claude’s enormous, swollen pec. Avery smiled as he listened to Claude’s heart thumping away. Meanwhile, Marcus took Avery’s foot and started to rub his thumbs from the heel, up along the bridge, while he sensuously suckled on each of Avery’s toes.

“Which one of us gets you tonight?” Claude finally asked.

“Claude! You know we shouldn’t ask that,” Marcus said.

Avery smiled. “You’re not servants,” he reminded them. “You’re… well, I’m not sure what you are.”

“Yours,” Claude said, lifting up a beefy arm and pulling Avery’s face deep into his musclepit. Avery savored the delicious stink, running his tongue along the crevice as he squeezed the plump delt just above his face.

“Do you two remember?” Avery finally said. He didn’t want to bring up how it had been before, afraid he would break the spell and revert it all back to what it was, but… he had to know. Had they been brainwashed? Had he somehow changed these men with magic he didn’t understand?

“We remember,” Marcus said, pausing from his foot worship. “It comes and goes. I bet after awhile, we won’t remember a thing, though.”

“We liked you,” Claude said, starting to carefully stroke Avery’s rock-hard cock. “I don’t think either of us had ever been with dudes before–man, that sounds so WEIRD to say now, considering dudes are all I think about…”

“But we were really into YOU,” Marcus said. “Whatever that means.”

Avery started bucking his hips as Claude started to pump his fist more quickly. “It was… the shooting stars,” he said. “Did one of you… wish?”

“Or the weed,” Marcus offered. He chuckled. “Maybe both?”

“I wished we could all stay here together, after that first night,” Claude whispered just before he licked up the side of Avery’s face.

“You seemed sad that first night,” Marcus said. “I wished we could make you happy, somehow…”

“And I wished it had always been this way,” Avery said. “I mean, I guess I did. It must have been that, right?”

Before anyone could answer him, Marcus moved with a quickness that seemed impossible for his mass. He grabbed Avery’s arms gently and kissed him deeply. With a pop, his stressed-to-the-limit posing trunks finally popped and his big dick sprung free, slapping against Avery’s.

Claude had slid beneath Avery in the tub, lifting him by the waist with ease until his ass was level with Claude’s face. The hunky muscleplug started teasing Avery’s hole with his tongue as Marcus kissed him deeply, seeming to pump Avery full of his breath.

“How…” Avery stammered as Marcus dropped down to swallow all ten inches of Avery’s enormous cock in his mouth. “How did this… How…”

But he was quickly overwhelmed by the sensation of the boys latching on to him from either end. Avery moaned, pounding his hands down over the walls of undulating muscle on either side of him.

For just a moment, Claude pulled away from Avery’s ass and said with a remarkably laid back tone, “Who needs an answer? I don’t see a problem with the way things are now, do you?”